


In Their Cups

by SpinsterModerne



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinsterModerne/pseuds/SpinsterModerne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William Darcy is in desperate need of caffeine after an all-nighter at the office. When he walks into his old friend, Stuart Gibson's new coffee house, he isn't ready for a barista with auburn hair, fine eyes, and an extensive knowledge of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistakes and Macchiatos

William Darcy knew coffee.

He knew his Konas from his Sumatran. His light roasts from his dark. He felt that Starbucks had discounted the elegant beauty of the café au lait, a travesty, and their calling a latte macchiato a macchiato was blasphemy. He knew that good espresso was best when it was lightly marked with milk.

But William Darcy was tired when he stepped into his old friend Stuart Gibson’s new coffee house just after 6:15 am on his way home to shower and change clothes before returning to the office. He wasn’t even thinking when he ordered a large “quadruple latte.”

“Now, I don’t want to be presumptive, but I don’t think that you actually want that drink,” the barista replied.

“Excuse me?” he grunted.

“No one orders a quad latte because they like it. They order one because they are exhausted.”

He looked up at the barista. There was something about the way her eyes sparkled and were made even more blue by her auburn hair that he might have appreciated if she would only stop talking and make him his coffee.

“Trust me. I know all the signs. Rumpled clothes. Red eyes behind your glasses. You, sir, have pulled an all-nighter and need something to get you through the day.”

He was too tired to argue. He just shrugged and grunted an affirmation.

“You see,” she continued as she poured and tamped and frothed, “most people think that the darker roasts have the most caffeine—and espresso’s the darkest that you can get—but it’s actually the opposite.”

He watched as she deftly moved her hand, perfectly creating a fern in the foam at the top of the cup.

“Here you go. One café au lait with a double shot of espresso and one espresso macchiato.”

“But I didn’t order this,” he said, pointing to the small cup.

“Yeah, but you need the caffeine, and this is the only way to truly enjoy an espresso.”

“Thank you,” he muttered as he downed the shot of espresso marked with milk and hurried to the door without another look.

“My pleasure,” she called out, her voice laced with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes in his direction.

As the door shut behind him, he sipped his café au lait and sighed with exasperation. Because she was right. And his drink was perfect.


	2. An Eye Opener

Charlotte couldn’t help but stare as she passed the handsome man leaving the shop. “Who was that,” she said with a smirk as she bustled through the front door.

 

 

“You are late,” Lizzie said, tucking an auburn strand of hair behind her ear.

 

 

“And you are avoiding my question . . .”

 

 

“Oh, who was that? Only the most insufferable, grumpy, no tipping ass hat that I have ever encountered,” Lizzie said in a huff.

 

 

“Hyperbole isn’t attractive, Lizzie.”

 

 

“That’s not hyperbole, Charlotte. It’s the truth! I gave that man my best ‘Eye Opener’ and he just grunted and left! He didn’t even leave a tip! I saved him from a lifetime of ordering bad, insufficiently caffeinated lattes and he didn’t even leave a tip! What about reciprocity?!”

 

 

“Oh, Lizzie,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “You did the thing.”

 

 

“What thing,” Lizzie inquired crossing her hands over her chest.

 

 

“The thing that you do. You are an intelligent person that likes to share knowledge, but you’ve never been perceptive. Sometimes people just want to order a drink and be on their way. They don’t want to be lectured on their subpar choices at 6:00am! I know that you mean well, Lizzie, but you come off as a know-it-all.”

 

 

Lizzie exasperatedly threw her hands in the air. “But life is too short to drink bad coffee!! They put it on t-shirts because it is true!!”

 

 

“But some people like bad coffee, Lizzie.”

 

 

Now Lizzie was furious. No one liked bad coffee. “Charlotte Lu, I did not spend 4 years in college learning how to pull a perfect shot of espresso and make hearts, stars, and clovers in the foam to put them on a subpar cup of coffee!”

 

 

“No, you did it to impress the editor-in-chief of the newspaper for the story that you were writing!” Charlotte put her hand up before Lizzie could protest. “And I know that you consider it an art. I’m just saying that there is a time and a place for everything. And while that man was too well dressed to drink a crappy latte, his eyes said that his brain was past recognizing a perfect pull from rocket fuel. You could have made him the same drink without giving him the lecture.”

 

 

“But then he’d just go through life ordering the wrong drink for the situation. Judging by the cut of his trousers and his fancy messenger bag, he’s someone very important and will be having future long nights,” Lizzie said in her haughtiest of voices. “The occasion to order an eye opener will come up again. I’m just helping his productivity!”

 

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “You checked out the cut of his trousers?”

 

 

“It was all I could see as he walked out the door without leaving a tip!”

 

 

“And . . .”

 

 

“The quality or content of one’s pants does not excuse poor manners.”

 

 

“Please don’t fret about this all day, Lizzie. I’m sure that there will be other handsome strangers that you can educate today,” Charlotte said.

 

 

For the earlier customer’s sake, Charlotte hoped that she was right. She had known Lizzie for as long as she could remember, and Lizzie worked best with words. She wooed with words but she also waged war with them. This man’s rebuff would not be easily forgotten. He would be walking into a warzone the next time he crossed the threshold.


	3. Steeping and Stewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie crafts a game plan as she looks back on another time a man was unappreciative of her espresso expertise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this veered a little more toward introspection. More characters will come, I promise!

Lizzie was good at many things, but excellent at two: writing and coffee. But in this moment, she was so angry she had to fix herself a cup of tea.

She was stewing. Lizzie hated that one little thing could set her whole day off course. She was glad that they were in their first week and weren’t busy, as she found no pleasure in the art of crafting caffeinated beverages. She really did love it. And she came to love it as a result of another rude encounter with a boy.

Charlotte wasn’t just kidding when she said that she’d acquired her barista skills to impress the editor-in-chief of her college newspaper. But when she took the piece on the campus coffee house, it wasn’t just because she wanted to make a name for herself on campus or get the geek chic editor to notice her—she had always like the idea of working in a coffee house.

She was enamored by the rich history of the European literary café. The books and films that she devoured in her early teen years always featured baristas that were some sort of artist pulling shots by day and pursuing their artistic passions by night. And the customers were always working on the “Great American Novel.” She wanted to be one of those people.

So when the editor-in-chief looked at her over his horn-rimmed glasses and told her that he was tabling the article and started dating the music columnist, she only stewed for a week. Learning to excel with espresso was better than therapy or ice cream. The campus coffee house became her home. It was where she launched the campus’s underground ‘zine, hosted open mics, and forgot all about the newspaper. It was why she was ok with helping her friend Ellen’s husband to open this new venture when she found herself freelancing and living at home after getting her MFA. It was her chance to build a new place for herself with things that she did best.

Right now, coffee wasn’t making her happy, but she knew just how to get through the anger. She would write about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I'm plugging away. The chapters will tend to be short, as I'm writing them on my daily commute. 
> 
> I have a couple of directions that I'm thinking of going. Would you prefer a close to canon adaptation or a more coffee house centric take?


End file.
